


Answer Me

by Scopareilmondo



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-29
Updated: 2013-03-28
Packaged: 2017-12-06 20:04:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/739577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scopareilmondo/pseuds/Scopareilmondo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This was a tumblr series, orgininally posted by me at <s>www.scopareilmondo.tumblr.com</s> <b>www.unscinfinity.tumblr.com</b>. It was also the first fanfiction I ever wrote, so I apologise for any crap. Honestly, it was pretty damn shocking.</p></blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Michael’s eyes snapped open, and it was then that he knew. It was then he realised he was in love with his best friend.

A glance at his alarm clock told him that it was 2am – too early to do anything, yet. “Fucking hell”, he grumbled, throwing his head back against the pillow. Gavin would still be asleep, and he was sure as hell going to be pissed if Michael woke him up. He had enough trouble sleeping as it was, without receiving phone calls in the middle of the night, no matter how important what Michael had to say was. No, it could wait until tomorrow.

With a groan, he pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, far too awake to slip back into dreams, his bed uncomfortably hot, all of a sudden. He tossed and turned for a while, trying to force himself back to sleep. Annoyed by how alert he was, he flung back the covers and shuffled to the edge of his bed, swinging his legs over the edge and running his fingers through the mass of ginger curls that flopped into his eyes as he put his head in his hands, elbows digging into his thighs.

Deciding to give up on going back to sleep, he shuffled into the kitchen, still rubbing his eyes, and snapped the light on. Within a second, he plunged the room back into darkness, the sharp, blinding light leaving white patches floating in his vision. The light wouldn’t do much good any way – he couldn’t see a fucking thing, given that he had left his glasses next to the bed. As he grabbed a glass of water, pulling the bottle out of the fridge, he found his mind drifting back to Gavin, absent mindedly leaning back against the kitchen counter, lost in his thoughts.

He thought about how much he hated the way his hair refused to all go in one direction, or even lie flat. He thought about how much he hated the Brit’s ridiculous accent, and how much he hated the smile that spread across his face when he realised he had said something completely fucking stupid. He despised the way Gavin was so goddamn easy to get along with and how it was impossible for him to really, truly hate him. Worst of all, he hated how long it had taken for him to make Michael fall in love with him.

Sighing, Michael tipped his head back to stare up at the ceiling, absorbed as he went back through his memories of Gavin, all of the happiness he had bought into his life since he had arrived in the state. Days spent at the pool, playing with Millie, endless scores of video games… He felt like a complete idiot, but he could hardly wait until work tomorrow, to see Gavin. So much made sense now that he knew what his feelings meant, what his heart had been trying to tell him all along. He spent the rest of the morning trying to figure out what the perfect thing to say would be, cleaning up the apartment with the world’s most stupid grin plastered across his face.

———————————————————————————————————————————————-

“Gavin I-”

“Michael, I”

The boys laughed at each other, but Michael couldn’t help but notice how tired Gavin looked today, how his laughter sounded so insincere. It was almost as if Gavin was in two places, torn apart. Only half of his best friend was here, with him. He fiddled with the edge of his beanie, wondering where the other half was, and what the hell he was doing so far away.

“Gav, are you okay? You look fucking awful.”

Gavin snorted, and just nodded, twirling the glass he held in his hands sheepishly.

“Cheers, buddy.” He chuckled, but his sarcasm sounded empty. “But seriously, I need to say something. You need to promise not to get angry, or anything, okay?”

This was most definitely not Gavin. Where was his twat of a best friend, making stupid noises and cracking awful jokes that nobody understood. Where were his crackpot science theories. Where were his smiles? Michael didn’t say anything, his throat too dry to form anything coherent, so he just nodded, silently panicking.

Gavin nodded back, slowly, and kept opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish, like he was unsure how to phrase something. Michael rolled his eyes, his friend’s obvious apprehension not doing anything to calm his nerves.

“Just spit it the fuck out, would you? Christ’s sake, Gavin, you’re gonna drive me mental…”

The words all tumbled out of his mouth at once, coming in a blur, making it difficult to discern what Gavin was trying to say at all, his speech more like a rush of air than an actual sentence.

“I’mmovingbacktoEnglandforgood.”

What. What the actual fuck. The good mood that had been hanging around Michael since he had woken up dissolved, like everything else around him. He wasn’t aware of the people sat around them now, the lunchtime rush filling the cafe, the tables outside packed full of people enjoying the blazing Texan sunshine. The only things he could focus on now were the rising bubbles of betrayal and anger that were forcing their way into his blood, and the man sat in front of him. Under the table, his fists clenched around the seat of the chair he sat on, trying to stop himself from launching himself at his friend.

“Why. Fucking hell, Gavin, why?!” He didn’t even realise he was yelling, and even if he had, he didn’t care any more. He had lost it. Just as he realised that he needed someone, that he needed him, his best friend tore himself away. If the people wanted to stare, then let them. There was no one here who gave a damn about him, anyway. “Are we not good enough for you any more? Gavin Free, you selfish motherfucker. Who do you think you are? You think.. you think you can just come over here and fuck with us for a while, then drop us when you’ve had enough? God no, Gavin! Actually, you know what? I don’t even give a shit. You get your sorry ass back home, and you…” He started laughing, the sort of hysterical laugh that breaks free when you’re shaking with anger, the rage fully consuming you. This wasn’t just anger though, it was agony. Raw, unbridled, uncontrollable pain. It tore into him like a knife, and every time he looked down at his friend, it was like someone twisting the blade, forcing it deeper into him. “I don’t even know what to say to you. Fuck off home.”

With that, Michael stormed out, knocking several people over as he made his escape, knowing that if he stayed much longer, the tears would start falling in front of all of the people, and he wouldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t let that happen.

Behind him, he left a shocked Gavin, with no idea what he had done to piss his best friend off so much.

———————————————————————————————————————————————-

The moment he got back into the apartment, the tears came streaming. He let the anger completely intoxicate him, fists flailing and slamming into walls as hard as possible, leaving dents in the plasterboard and flaking small parts off, landing at his feet, some with smudges of blood where the abused skin that stretched over his knuckles had broken. He was screaming, but he couldn’t tell what he was saying, every single noise smothered by the ringing in his ears that pierced every thought, blocked out the sound of messages piling up on his answering machine. 1 message, 2 messages, 34 messages. All of the tidying Michael had done whilst in his state of bliss that morning was ruined, the contents of game shelf he had painstakingly alphabetized being tossed onto the floor. He grabbed the framed picture of him, Gavin and Geoff’s daughter, with every intention of throwing it to the floor, but something stopped him from tossing it down. He looked so … happy. They all did. He ran his fingers over the cool glass, where Gavin had one arm wrapped around Millie and Michael, doing his trademark fucking grin straight at the camera.

His knees buckled, and he had to do his best not to land on the floor, face down amongst the games. He stumbled over to the sofa, where he pulled his knees into his chest and just sobbed for a while, staring at the picture he clutched in his hands. Over and over again, he ran his thumb over Gavin’s face, until the glass was so smudged it was difficult to even tell who the picture was of.

“Why?” He whispered, to his empty apartment, floor littered with things he had thrown onto the ground whilst in his fit of rage. “Why are you taking him away from me?” Now, all he could feel was broken. Nothing made sense, it was like his entire world had been shredded, and the pieces had been thrown to the wind. He couldn’t make up his mind; did he hate Gavin? Did he want to go and find him and apologise to him? Did he want to beg him not to go? “What should I do?” He asked the nothingness, hugging his knees as tight as he could, scared that if he were to let go he would crumble.

There was no answer. There never was.


	2. Chapter 2

There wasn’t a day that went past when Michael wished Gavin was there when he walked into the office, sitting at his desk editing a Lets Play, or whatever the fuck it was he did when he worked there. Michael never really had reason to question what it actually was that Gavin did at Roosterteeth, he just spent his time enjoying his friend’s company. It hadn’t even crossed his mind that one day, he might not be working next to him. Without him, the entire place just seemed too quiet, too empty. No matter where he looked, everything reminded Michael of his best friend, of all of the stupid things they had done and how long they had spent laughing at it.

It had been 3 years. 3 years to the day, and not a single word had come back from Gavin. Michael couldn’t really blame him though, given the way he had reacted the day he had found out his best friend would be moving almost 5000 miles away from him. Today would be different, though. Michael had decided that enough was enough, and if Gavin wouldn’t talk to him, he would have to talk to Gavin. He thought he could just ride out the pain of being left behind, but even now, he could feel the betrayal, the agony and the overwhelming sense of being replaced like it was yesterday. It clung to his skin, and no matter how many times he tried to get rid of it, it just dug its claws in further, worming deeper into his heart.

Excusing himself from work early, having done everything he needed to anyway, he set off home to write at Gavin.

———————————————————————————————————————————————-

After hunting for a pen that actually worked for almost an hour, Michael finally sat down at his desk, the blank paper suddenly becoming very, very intimidating. He hadn’t thought about what he was going to write before, but now he was sat here, nothing came to mind. He stared blankly at the paper, the pen hovering a few centimetres above it as he sought out the words that would ease his pain. Truthfully, he didn’t know who the letter was really for; Gavin, or himself. Sighing, he pressed the pen against the paper and started to write.

_Dear Gavin,_

_How are you? I hope all is well down in Engla_

The paper was screwed up and on the floor within seconds, Michael shaking his head furiously at how stupid the words had sounded, even to him. Grabbing a new sheet of paper, he tried again.

_Dear Gavin,_

_I’m sorry I was an idiot when you told me you were going. I don’t know what came over me. I hope England is okay, we all miss you here, like crazy. Even Ray was moaning about how quiet things have gotten since you left._

He looked back at the words, reading them over again. Then, frowning, he tossed it to the floor, tapping the pen against the table like a madman as he thought about what he needed to say. Already, the writing bullshit was getting on his nerves. He pulled a new piece towards him, and stared at the lines printed onto it, cupping his neck with his palm as words ran through his mind, none of them sounding right. His brow was furrowed as he scrawled words onto the pages, then flung them down, piece after piece hitting the floor.

_Gavin._

_You’re a prick._

_Gavin._

_What the fuck?_

_Gavin._

_Come home, you little shit._

He took his glasses off and rocked back in his chair, staring at the wall in front of him expectantly, like it would give him all of the answers, just like that. He watched the shadows outside his window dance against the wall, having not realised that in the time he had been trying to write the letter, Austin had been plunged into darkness. Hesitantly, he chewed his lip, then picked up his pen again, twisting it uncomfortably. Leaning over the table, he started writing one last time.

_Gav._

_I miss you. I miss you so. Fucking. Much._

_Why did you leave us so soon? Please, just explain to me what was so wrong with us that you had to leave so suddenly. I know that I was a complete dick the day you told me you were going, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I couldn’t do anything to change your mind and get you to stay, because now I’m going to have to drag you back home, kicking and screaming. You belong here, and whether you like it or not, I’m not going to let you go without a fight. You may have already left the country, but I swear to God that I’m not going to stop until you get your ass back here. I don’t know why, but I need you, Gavin. Fuck knows what you’ve done to me, but nothing’s right any more and I want you to come and fix it for me. Something tells me you’re the only one who can, since it’s you who left the goddamn gaping hole that’s fucking everything up. Everything’s too quiet without you, all of the people I used to know have completely changed and the office is just… empty. Millie was asking about you, when she came in with Geoff the other day. She asked me how you were, and you know what she did when I said I didn’t know? She cried. Millie cried, Gav, because she thought that if you couldn’t even talk to me, all hope was lost of ever getting you home. We were best friends, Gavin. Do you remember? I know you have your reasons to be a dick to me - after all the crap I’ve given you, it seems only fair, but I’m begging you. I’ll do all that down on my knees shit if it’ll bring you back to us. Maybe just a letter back, or an email, or even a fucking tweet, to tell us that you didn’t leave because you hated us and that you’re okay._

_I blame myself, in case you didn’t already know. I look back at everything, and the only thing I can ever see forcing you away from working with us is me. I know it’s probably stupid that I pile all of the blame onto my own shoulders, especially when my best friend won’t even tell me what’s going on, but I do. Even if I didn’t, you were still here for another week after you told me you were going. I had a week to change your mind, and I threw it down the drain because I was too proud, or too scared that you would say it was all down to me, and I didn’t know how I could ever cope with that. I was so scared of being hurt, I didn’t even try to get you back. I saved my own ass, when I should have been trying to hold on to the most precious thing I had. In my eyes, it’s my fault that you’re gone and it’s my fault that you won’t even talk to me, or any of the others._

_I can’t forget you, and I don’t know why. What’s so good about picking up the pieces? Tell me, Gavin, because I don’t have a clue. I can’t move on, because that would mean forgetting you, and I would rather have amazing memories tinged with pain than no memories at all. Your name is burnt into my throat, and it’s impossible to get rid of. No matter where I look, something will remind me of you, and the pain of you leaving comes back stronger than ever. I hate being like this. I hate being without you._

_Please, Gavin. Be home soon._

_Michael._

He knew from the moment he started writing, he would never be able to send it. He could never bring himself to admit how much Gavin’s absence was effecting him, let alone tell the boy himself, when there was a massive chance he might just not care. He couldn’t live, knowing that the one person he cared about more than anything in the world didn’t give a shit.

He dropped his head into his hands, the letter that would never be sent pushed as far away from him as the desk would allow. He didn’t have the nerve to be anywhere near it, any more. The presence of the thing made him feel physically sick.

Without warning, his phone started buzzing, rustling the paperwork it lay on. Michael shot it a confused look, then snatched it up. At the other end of the line, was a very heavy breathing Geoff, who didn’t even give him the opportunity to say hello.

“Get. Here. Now.”

Michael went into instant panic mode. He could only assume that something had happened to Griffon or Millie, and he needed help. Despite that, though, his voice had an undeniable tinge of excitement, mixed with a dash of apprehension. Michael recognised that tone well, Geoff used it whenever he was telling someone something he wasn’t sure he should. It was the most alive he had seemed in months.

“Wh-” Geoff cut him off again, only this time, the words he practically yelled froze him to the spot.

“It’s Gavin. Gavin’s back.”


	3. Chapter 3

Michael grabbed his glasses, and ran as fast as he could out of his apartment, snatching his jacket from the back of the sofa as he sprinted through the living room. He didn’t even stop to grab his car keys, he just threw his arms through the sleeves and concentrated on putting one foot in front of another, his steps pounding against the concrete underfoot. It was only about a mile and a half to Geoff’s house, a run he could easily make in under a quarter of an hour, so long as he didn’t stop.

After only the first minute his legs started burning, but he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered to him was getting to the Ramsey’s house as fast as he possibly could. It felt like he was on fire, the muscles in his sides starting to scream, but he pushed himself on anyway, physically unable to stop. Even if he collapsed, he would beat himself until he could get back to his feet and carry on running. He would have driven, but his hands were shaking so hard that he doubted he could have gotten there in one piece.

“It’s Gavin. Gavin’s back.”

He couldn’t shake the words from his mind, they were well and truly wedged into his brain. Within seconds of hearing that his best friend was home he had hung up on Geoff and started running, as if he were running for his life. A small part of him wondered if he was, given that a massive chunk of him had been missing since Gavin had left. He shook his head amusedly, his curls tickling the back of his neck, then sticking to the clammy skin exposed there. Of course he was, goddammit. He was running for everything he loved in the world, and everything he valued. He was running for Gavin.

The moment he turned the corner, Geoff shot him a confused look, leaning up against his car. He looked even paler than usual, his hair all over the place, like he had been dragged out of bed. Thinking about it, he probably had been, what with Gavin choosing to arrive stupidly early in the morning. Michael didn’t really care about losing any sleep, but Geoff looked so much worse off for it; it really wasn’t fair that he got dumped with all of the Gavin shit.

“Dude, why didn’t you drive?” He asked, when Michael reached him and doubled over, pressing his palms against the car door for support.

“Car’s broken.” He managed to choke out between pained breaths, too proud to admit that he was way too distracted to drive safely. People at the office knew that they had been pretty damn close, but he wouldn’t allow himself to admit how much the Brit’s absence had hurt him – Geoff had a bad habit of keeping nothing to himself, and if Michael had told him, it would have been all over the office in a matter of minutes the next day.

“Do you happen to know what the fuck is going on, because I sure as hell don’t.” Michael just looked over at him and shook his head, straightening up and placing his hands on the small of the back, stretching his spine. His breathing had started to even out, and for the time being, the world had stopped spinning around him. Deciding that he wasn’t going to pass out, Geoff started leading Michael towards the front door, nothing but his heavy breathing breaking the silence of the night. When they reached the door, Geoff turned, as if he were going to say something before they went in, then decided against it and swung it open, not putting up any complaint when Michael barrelled into the room.

The moment a pair of green eyes flew up to meet his, he froze, as if he had been glued to the spot. The person who sat on the sofa was not Gavin Free. No, Gavin Free was happy, laughing, messy and skinny, but comfortably so. Not so skinny that you worried about his health, but skinny enough that you noticed it. Gavin Free’s hair stood up in every direction at the back, and his eyes were full of life. The man sat on the sofa in front of him could not possibly be Gavin Free, because this man – this imposter – was empty. There was no grin when he saw Michael, just a feeble smile that lasted for a few seconds, before it faded into nothingness, and they just stared at each other. Michael didn’t understand what was happening, why Geoff had called him to come and look at a man sitting in his front room, with a confused Millie peaking out from between the posts on the stair case. How could he get it so wrong? This wasn’t him! This wasn’t his Gavin!

“Michael,” A voice croaked, and it all hit him at once.

It was his friend sat opposite him. It was his Gavin, it was just a very broken one, like a kid’s toy that had been played with too much, and the battery had started to run out. The voice was the same, but the slight crack at the end sent a cold shiver down Michael’s spine. Whatever this was, he didn’t like it at all. Whatever had happened to Gavin back in England… something that could change a man so completely wasn’t worth thinking about. Suddenly, an urge to run up to his best friend and throw his arms around him swept over Michael, and he didn’t refuse it. He all but launched himself onto the sofa next to Gavin, and threw his arms around his neck, pulling him as close as was humanly possible. At first, the other man froze, then hesitantly wrapped his arms around Michael’s waist and squeezed. He couldn’t hold on tight enough, clinging to Michael as if he were the only thing in the world left to live for, like he was the only thing that would stop him from falling back into the hell he had only just managed to crawl his way out of. He grabbed at Michael’s jumper, his weak grip only showing how vulnerable he really was, how close he was to breaking. Michael held onto Gavin as if he were the only thing still holding the Brit together.

A voice came from the doorway, full of concern and guilt. “Michael, Geoff and I were just wondering if Gavin could stay with you for a few nights, just until we get his room sorted out. We had it changed into a playroom for Millie, because we thought – well we all thought…” Griffon trailed off as Michael nodded in her general direction, refusing to let go of his best friend.

“Where’s his stuff?” He asked, keeping his voice as quiet as possible for fear that it might break, and his emotions would escape. Hesitantly, he pulled away from Gavin slightly, leaving a protective arm around his shoulder. Shakily, Gavin picked up a small backpack, Griffon just pointing to what he was clutching. Michael swore under his breath, promising to bring a painful end to whoever had left Gavin with so little.

He wrapped Gavin’s arm over his shoulder and pulled himself to his feet, not trusting his friend’s feet to carry him to the end of the street, let alone to his apartment. He placed a hand on the only possessions Gavin had bought over, and persuading his stubborn fingers to let go, Michael swung it over the shoulder he wasn’t using to brace Gavin, trying to make it as easy as possible for his best friend to walk.

They fell over before they even got to the door.

———————————————————————————————————————————————-

After almost an hour of stumbling around, they finally reached Michael’s home, much to the relief of both of the men. When they passed through the doorway into the warmth of the apartment, they both collapsed onto the ground – Michael from exhaustion, Gavin from the sheer joy of being off of the street. They sat against the wall for a while, staring up at the ceiling in silence whilst they tried to recollect themselves. The silence wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable, it was a warm silence, a silence where they were just glad not to be alone, and that they were there together. It took a while for Michael to build up the courage, but slowly, he shuffled so he was sat facing Gavin, and he gripped his arm.

“Gavin… what happened?”

His best friend looked down at his hands in shame, playing with the frayed bottom of his jumper and shaking his head vigorously, as if he were trying to shake the memory out of his head.

“Don’t make me remember, Michael.” Gavin pleaded, his eyes flying up to Michael’s far too quickly. “Please. Please, just … don’t make me remember. Don’t let me remember! Michael!” His voice kept breaking and his breathing was hitched, making him sound like he was crying, but no tears fell. Of course not – Gavin didn’t cry, everyone knew that. No one had seen him like this, though. So utterly defeated that you almost willed him to cry, so there would be some physical trace of pain that you could wipe away, and promise him that everything would be alright.

Michael reached out with both hands and gently placed them on Gavin’s cheeks, forcing his friend to look at him.

“Gavin, listen. I’m not going to make you think about anything you don’t want to, okay? Just know, though, that nobody can touch you here. So long as you’re with me, you’ll be safe, because I won’t let anybody so much as fucking touch you without your permission. I promise you. I swear on my life that I won’t let any harm come to you.”

Gavin just stared at him with his huge, empty eyes and whispered “Why do you care so much?”

Because I never want anyone to hurt you. Because you mean the world to me. Because knowing that I can help you, even a tiny bit, makes me feel like I have a purpose. Because you’re my boy. Because I love you.

“Because I’m your friend, and that’s what friends do, I guess?” Michael shrugged it off, taking his hands away from Gavin’s face and pressing them palms down against his jeans. Where he had made contact with the skin, his hands felt like they had been burnt, but he couldn’t feel the pain yet. It shouldn’t have felt as good as it had, touching Gavin’s face, but the rush that had shot through Michael’s veins told him it was well worth it.

Gavin smiled the most simple, but most beautiful smile in the world, and it all but stopped Michael’s heart. For the first time since he had arrived, there was the tiniest hint of the real Gavin Free in his eyes, and it was pure bliss. Somewhere in there, his best friend still existed – whichever fucker had done this to him hadn’t completely broken him, and in time, he could be fixed. Gavin could be saved. His best friend would come back to him.

———————————————————————————————————————————————-

Michael had called out to Gavin ages ago that his room was ready, so where the fuck was he? He was all set to show Gavin how to work the shower, and where his towels were, and all of that other shit, but he had never arrived. Sighing, he went looking for him, wondering how on Earth he had managed to lose him in an apartment the size of this one.

It look him all of 30 seconds for Michael to find him – Gavin had fallen asleep on the sofa. It was typical of the Brit. He had a perfectly good bed, but he still chose to sleep on the motherfucking sofa. He couldn’t deny it though, Gavin was adorable when he slept. He looked about 5 years younger, and wearing the shirt Michael had lent him, which was far too big, what with all of the weight he had lost, he looked just like a kid. Michael really didn’t want to wake him up, but he didn’t have another choice. He had work in the morning, and if he left him to sleep there his movements in the kitchen would wake him up.

As quietly as he could, he crouched down in front of the sofa and slowly shook Gavin’s shoulder, trying to be as gentle with him as possible. He seemed so fragile, Michael was worried that a piece of him might break off in his hand.

“Wake up, sleeping beauty.” He teased, noticing that Gavin’s eyes had started twitching underneath his eyelids. His eyes opened groggily, and his entire body went rigid when he saw someone so close to his face. He threw his entire body upright and moved as far away as the constraints of the sofa would allow, before realising that it was just Michael and slouching back down. He seemed embarrassed, staring down at the floor and shuffling his feet awkwardly.

“Sorry, you just, you uh … you scared me.” He spluttered, the edge of extreme discomfort and pain Michael heard out in the hall earlier creeping back into his voice. He pulled himself up onto the sofa next to him and reached out for his friend, who leant against him and accepted the warmth Michael radiated graciously. He curled up in a little ball and got as close as he could, soaking up the heat as he explained to Michael that he must have passed out, and thanking him for being so kind for about the millionth time. Michael was just filling him in on what had happened in the office in the time Gavin hadn’t been home, but when he looked down to get a reaction to a change Burnie had made a few months back, he saw that Gavin had fallen asleep again.

Smiling down at his best friend, he leant over and pulled the blanket up over them both, plucking a cushion from next to him and propping it to form a pillow before stretching up and hitting the lights. Gavin shifted a little as the movement jolted him out of place, then settled down again, sighing softly into Michael’s chest and mumbling something incoherent. Running his fingers through Gavin’s hair absently, Michael closed his eyes and started drifting off to sleep, the weight of the Brit pressed against him oddly comforting. For now, it didn’t matter that he didn’t know what or who caused Gavin so much pain. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know how long it would take for his best friend to escape his shell, or how hard that shell would be to destroy. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t put the person who had done this in as much pain as Gavin was feeling now. It didn’t matter that Gavin didn’t know he loved him.

All that mattered was the here and now. All that mattered was that Gavin was here, and Gavin was safe.

Gavin was home.


	4. Chapter 4

The light didn’t stream through the window in Texas. Streaming was too gentle. In Texas, light burst through your windows, assaulted your eyes and dragged you out of your dreams, kicking and screaming, especially if you were careless enough to leave the curtains open the night before. Michael didn’t wake up slowly, or particularly gracefully – he covered his eyes, swearing, and felt around for a blanket to cover his face with. Why the fuck was he on the sofa anyway?

It took him about 5 minutes, curled up under the blanket, to realise something was wrong. Something was missing, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Of course, Gavin was missing, but he hadn’t seen Gavin in months. Last night he had dreamt he came home, and they had fallen asleep … Shit. They had fallen asleep on the sofa. Struggling to throw the blanket aside, he started screaming his best friends name, only getting more tangled as he thrashed around.

“Gavin!” He cried, finally tossing the sheet to the floor and jumping to his feet. He barrelled into the kitchen, then into his bedroom, then the bathroom before finally crashing into the spare bedroom, all of which were empty. The bed was exactly how he left it last night; neatly made, with one corner folded down so someone could climb in and pull it up over their shoulders. Lindsay used to do it when they lived together, and he had quickly picked it up. Somehow, it had stuck, and turned into a habit he just couldn’t quite shake. He threw himself down on the edge of the bed, staring at the front door, which was fully visible from here. He studied the wall that they had sat up against last night, where Gavin had smiled that smile that made Michael forget how to breathe.

His fingers picked nervously at the sleeves of his jumper, the edges frayed where he had done this so much recently, thinking about Gavin. Even his hunter hoodie was ruined, the stitching at the edges completely unpicked. As the first tears threatened to fall on to his jeans, which were pretty much stuck to him, after wearing them for two days, he heard a tiny voice calling from the other side of the apartment.

“Michael?”

Without even thinking, Michael leapt to his feet, running towards the sound of the Brit’s voice. When he finally found him, after tearing around for a while, Gavin was stood in the doorway of Michael’s study, and the sight made the tears he was fighting break out and run down his cheeks, teeth clamping down against his trembling lip. He had forgotten just how awful Gavin looked, his bones painfully visible under his skin, which was completely colourless. It only got worse when he tried to talk, his voice raspy and quiet, completely the opposite of what it was when he had left. Michael found it almost impossible to believe that the man who stood in front of him was the same man who had left for England just 9 months ago.

“What’s wrong, Michael?” Gavin asked, his voice full of concern, but completely broken. The sound was pure hurt, like Michael had never heard. He thought that his best friend was getting better last, but clearly, nothing had changed. It would be foolish to think that anything had – it sure as hell wasn’t going to be a quick fix. Whatever had happened to him when he had gone back … no. Michael didn’t even want to think of that. Not now, not ever.

“It’s nothing, it’s just that that, well, no. It’s not important.”

Gavin cocked his head and stared at him, expectantly. Michael couldn’t bear to look at him any more, so he cast his gaze to the floor, finding patterns in the tousled carpet.

“I only just got you back, Gavin, and I thought you had run away. I thought you had disappeared, as quickly as you had arrived.” His voice had grown steadily quieter, not wanting to make Gavin feel any worse then he already did. “It hurt, y’know?”

There was a long time where they stood in silence, Gavin staring at Michael, Michael staring at the floor. It was like they were frozen, neither of them moving for fear of hurting the other.

The sound of folded paper hitting the floor shocked them both out of their inability to move, both of their eyes fixing on the square of paper at Gavin’s feet at the same time. Michael shot him a questioning look, who refused to move, then slowly shuffled over to where he was stood, crouching down to pick up the paper, running his fingers over the surface, just a few words visible. He wasn’t aware of how close he was stood to Gavin until he looked up, his curls brushing his best friends nose. Tentatively, he took a step back, before starting to unfold the paper in his hands. He didn’t really need to, though. The words he had seen when it was still on the floor were enough to tell him exactly what it was.

_Please, Gavin. Be home soon._

_Michael._

Michael re-read what he had written again and again, the tears that were building up in his eyes making it damn near impossible for him to see what was on the page in front of him. He pretended to read anyway, completely unable to look at Gavin, for the time being. Why did he have to do this to him? Why was Gavin so completely able to fuck with his emotions? It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. He didn’t realise his hands were shaking until Gavin wrapped his cool, slender fingers around his wrist and pried the letter from his fingers, letting it float down onto the floor next to them.

“It wasn’t your fault, Michael. None of this was ever any of your fault.” He sounded genuinely guilty, like all of Michael’s suffering rested on his shoulders.

When he finally gained the courage to look up, Michael saw the most beautifully agonising thing he could have imagined. Silent tears rolled down Gavin’s cheeks, leaving a thin river trailing down his face. His features didn’t move, like he was locking all of his emotions behind a glass wall, but his eyes … his eyes were the most gorgeous thing Michael had ever seen. Not because of the colour, which was breathtaking, no doubt about it, but because they were alive. They were alive, and the only thing Michael could see in them was love. There’s no way to describe what Michael saw in those eyes, it was so powerful, and so overwhelming. He was transfixed by the beauty of it all, how suddenly he had gone from being lost to knowing exactly where he was and who he was, how much Gavin could tell him through a single look.

A fresh wave of tears hit him, and he pressed his lips together, determined not to let them beat him, this time. Slowly, unsure, he lifted his hand and ran his fingertips along his best friends cheekbone, the contact with his skin leaving him burning, like he had just dipped his hand into a hot bath. A tiny smile played around the edges of Gavin’s lips, and he couldn’t help but smile back as Gavin wiped the tears away from his eyes, one hand finally coming to rest on Michael’s cheek.

Taking a tiny step forward, Michael pressed his lips against Gavin’s, the connection between them sending sparks to every point in his body, like static electricity was building all over him. He gave a tiny jump as Gavin’s lips moved under his, before he sank into the kiss completely, abandoning his senses and falling into the feeling of kissing Gavin Free. Nothing had ever felt so right before, like it was meant to happen. The world stopped around him, and there was nothing else to care about. The bubbles of happiness made him feel giddy with excitement, the emotions like helium lifting him up to some sort of heaven. He didn’t care if tears and Gavin were the last thing he tasted, it was exquisite. He highly doubted that anything could live up to this. No – he knew nothing would ever live up to this.

When he pulled away, Gavin was smiling the same that had melted his heart the night before, and he could do nothing but grin back at him, like he was a child.

“I fucking love you, Gavin Free.” His voice was shaky, but he didn’t care. It was the most important thing he had ever said, the most truthful he had ever been.

“I love you too, Michael Jones.”

His world was complete.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a tumblr series, orgininally posted by me at ~~www.scopareilmondo.tumblr.com~~ **www.unscinfinity.tumblr.com**. It was also the first fanfiction I ever wrote, so I apologise for any crap. Honestly, it was pretty damn shocking.


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